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Saturday, February 06, 2010
[Starbucks_Love.jpg]

And he left, knowing that he now had the reason to never go back, to never see her again, and to finally get her out of his blood, and out of his life. In the end it was so obvious. He should have expected it all along.

A new man. Of course. What else?

He wondered how he could ever have been so dumb, how he could ever have believed that she was really any different to him. She was just another girl. She was just another woman. How could it possibly end any other way? She had met some new guy. Right. Of course. He almost laughed. But somehow the banality of it all was impossible to grasp.

A new man, when she had told him that there would never be another man, and that she would love him until the day she died. All that stuff that they put in the songs. All the lies they tell you and you are so eager to believe.

Only you, for ever and ever, like one of the old songs. That's what she had told him, that's what had come out of the mouth he knew so well, and he had believed her, and it made his life impossible because it meant he could never give her up. It meant that one day and someday and somehow they would be together, because there was no escaping the other. They were bound together like two mountaineers. But now she had broken the bond.

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He had been told that they did not feel love in the way that he felt love, that they responded to acts of kindness and generosity with all their body and heart, but that was not love, they told him, not in the Western sense of the one true one, the partner for life, the unmet lover found at last. Not love like that, like love back home, the way that it was meant to be, they said. Not real love the way it was made in the West.

They were just so practical when it came to love, they told him until he believed it, until he could see what they meant, and he could see that we in the West were not practical at all - we simply fell, we just took the giddy step over the cliff and landed where our wayward hearts took us.

The East was practical. The East could not afford to love. The West was romantic. Because the West could afford to love.

[FLOWERED+POSTERS.jpg]
And perhaps she said it because she felt it too - the terrible finality of the ending, of letting it go, and she wanted him to stay for just a few more seconds, because they both knew they would never see each other again after today, and all they would ever share now was the past and whatever photographs that she had been unable to destroy.


My Favourite Wife by Tony Parsons
4:20 AMsent a prayer

Friday, February 05, 2010

But when one of them goes - when one of them walks out - then you feel so worthless. You just feel so worthless, and I don't think you every get over it. I think a part of you always feels worthless, as if you deserved it, as if you made it happen, as if it happened because you were bad.

He had thought on their wedding day that the rings they exchanged would last them a lifetime. Now he saw that wedding rings get lost, they get stolen, they get thrown in anger. Now he saw that you might get through any number of wedding rings in a marriage. Now he found it difficult that he had never been as young as he was on their wedding day, young enough to believe that you only need one wedding ring.


Was it over?

Not until he could harden his heart and stop seeing her, not until she stopped loving him as if there was something special about him, not until she stopped loving him as if he was a good man.

Not until she stopped loving him all the time. Not until he knew that she would be just fine without him. Not until he could think about what was going to happen to her without being worried sick.

It would never over until then.
11:23 PMsent a prayer


They didn't say 'I love you' very often. They were not one of those married couples that felt the need to say it every day. But it came out when they realised what they had, and they were grateful, and they were wise enough to count their blessings.

Love the earth and the sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labour for others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning god, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men.


What if the problem was not trying to meet someone great, but that you would meet a lot of great people? What if the problem was not finding someone worthy of love, but meeting an endless number of people who were worthy of love? What then? Was that a blueprint for a happy life? Or a recipe for disaster?

When he kissed her it was a good fit. In fact their mouths fit together perfectly. There was usually something wrong with the way mouths fit together, he thought. Tongues too active or passive, lips too hard or wet, teeth that got in the way. Noses all over the place. But not with her.

His parents had made it look easy. You find someone and then you stick with them forsaking all others until you are parted by the grave. You kept all the big promises you had made in bed an in church and on all the days you would never forget. That's what you did, and your life was simple, and the future was clear. It did not seem impossible, unimaginable.

If it's possible for me to come back and be around you, then that's exactly what I am going to do, and I'll be there for ever. Everywhere you go. You'll be all grown up but I'll still be there. I'll be in the sunlight on your face, and I'll be in rain on your shoes, and I'll be in the wind in your hair. I'll be there when you wake up in the morning and I'll be there when you go to sleep at night. And I'll keep watch by your bed all night, and you will feel me smiling and you, and you'll never be alone because I will be there, always and forever.


Too many people loved the old man to let him die alone. But the old man had his own family behind him, the brothers who were still alive, and the widows of the ones who were not, and Bill saw that there were many people who loved the old man because of who he was, and without the obligation of blood. They all came, and there was a sad grandeur to these final days in the hospital, as if all the friends and neighbours and work mates of a lifetime had to be gathered here, in this special place, to show they cared and to say goodbye.

My Favourite Wife by Tony Parsons
5:13 PMsent a prayer
5:05 PMsent a prayer

Saturday, January 30, 2010

Could you really love someone who was capable of falling in love with somebody else?

What if love wasn't the act of finding what you were missing but the give and take that made you both match?
It was possible that a miracle was not something that happened to you, but rather something that didn't.

Relationships always sounded so physically painful: You fell in love, you broke a heart, you lost your head. Was it any wonder that people came through the experience with battle scars? The problem with a marriage - or maybe its strength - was that it spanned a distance, and you were never the same person you started out being. If you were lucky, you could still recognise each other years later. If you weren't, you wound up in your office with a boy fifteen years younger than you were, pouring his heart into your open hands.

When you loved someone, you did whatever you thought was in her best interests, even if - at the time - it looked utterly wrong. Men did this for women, mothers did it for sons. What made a hero a hero? Was it winning all the time, like Superman? Or was it taking on the risk reluctantly, like Spider Man? Was it learning, like the X-Men had, that at any moment you might fall from grace to become a villain? Or, like Alan Moore's Rorschach, was it being human enough to enjoy watching people die, if they deserved it?

It was no coincidence that fear could move a person to extremes, just as seamlessly as love. They were the conjoined twins of emotion: If you didn't know what was at stake to lose, you had nothing to fight for.

The Tenth Circle by Jodi Picoult
5:01 AMsent a prayer
4:54 AMsent a prayer

Saturday, January 09, 2010

Sometimes you have to be apart from people you love,
but that doesn't mean that you love them any less,
sometimes it even makes you love them more.


The Last Song by Nicholas Sparks
4:41 PMsent a prayer

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They say a story loses something with each telling. If that is the case, this story has lost nothing, for it’s the first time it’s been told. 


This story is one for which some people will have to suspend their disbelief. If this wasn’t happening to me, I would be one of those people. 


Many won’t struggle to believe it, though, for their minds have been opened; unlocked by whatever kind of key causes 

people to believe. Those people are either born that way or, as babies, when their minds are like little buds, they are 

nurtured until their petals slowly open and prepare for the very nature of life to feed them. As the rain falls and the sun shines, they grow, grow, grow; minds so open, they go through life aware and accepting, seeing light where 

there’s dark, seeing possibility in dead ends, tasting victory as others spit out failure, questioning when others accept. 

Just a little less jaded, a little less cynical. A little less likely to throw in the towel. Some people’s minds open later in life, through tragedy or triumph. Either thing can act as the key to unlatch and lift the lid on that know-it-all box, to 

accept the unknown, to say goodbye to pragmatism and straight lines. 


But then there are those whose minds are merely a bouquet of stalks, which bud as they learn new information – a new 

bud for a new fact – but yet they never open, never flourish. They are the people of capital letters and full stops, but never 

of question marks and ellipses ... 


Cecelia Ahern - 'The Book of Tomorrow'
5:24 AMsent a prayer

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"You can surrender without a prayer, but never really pray without surrender. You can fight without ever winning, but never really win without a fight."

-Neil Peart
4:39 AMsent a prayer

Saturday, January 02, 2010


Give thanks with a grateful heart
Give thanks to the Holy One
Give thanks because He's given Jesus Christ, His Son

Give thanks with a grateful heart
Give thanks to the Holy One
Give thanks because He's given Jesus Christ, His Son

And now let the weak say, "I am strong"
Let the poor say, "I am rich
Because of what the Lord has done for us"

And now let the weak say, "I am strong"
Let the poor say, "I am rich
Because of what the Lord has done for us"

Give thanks with a grateful heart
Give thanks to the Holy One
Give thanks because He's given Jesus Christ, His Son

Give thanks with a grateful heart
Give thanks to the Holy One
Give thanks because He's given Jesus Christ, His Son

And now let the weak say, "I am strong"
Let the poor say, "I am rich
Because of what the Lord has done for us"

And now let the weak say, "I am strong"
Let the poor say, "I am rich
Because of what the Lord has done for us"
Give thanks

We give thanks to You oh Lord
We give thanks
4:57 PMsent a prayer

Friday, January 01, 2010
5:25 PMsent a prayer
5:12 PMsent a prayer

THE CHURCH OF THE LORD JESUS CHRIST

She is the plan of God on earth; always in her Father's eye: Cherished, mysterious, beautiful and potent beyond measure: King empowered and life infused. She emerges triumphant; limitless with potential; a harbour for the hopeless and an answer for the ages: The church resplendent - a bride for His Son.

She is the body of Christ on earth; born, like her Head, amidst tribulation, under jealous skies. Cradled in her innocence and guarded for His purpose. She grows in wisdom and stature with victory on her lips and freedom in her hands. Hers is an unstoppable cause. She embraces the world with dignity, honour and compassion; gives vision to the sightless and life to the dying.

She is the family of God on earth. Within her compass, the hungry find sustenance and the weary receive strength. She is a haven for recovering humanity, enthralled by grace. She invites the broken, the vulnerable and the outcast to be immersed in love. She stands imperfect but perfection resides within her. She is flawed but is washed with forgiveness. She has a treasury of faith and a wealth of belonging.

She is the house of heaven on earth: A representative, resolute to reconcile. The Word within her accepts the receptive but challenges the heartless. She is the ecclesia, called out to serve the world: Calling out to welcome in. Blood-washed and armed with testimony, the cross on her lips liberates the chained and offends the unchanging. Like her Master she is pursued and persecuted. Yet she rises with strength in her heart and fire in her soul.

She is the bride of Christ on earth; readying herself for the day when all eyes will be upon her. Prepared and presented before the Lord: The Lamb for whom the world waits, who comes like the rising sun, majestic and magnificent beyond description, while she dazzles with reflected glory. Spotless, perfect and mature, she bows low to cast her crowns and passionately worship Him. Her temporal focus becomes her eternal gaze. She is the church of the Lord Jesus Christ.

- by Robert Fergusson
4:57 PMsent a prayer

Thursday, December 31, 2009

On New Year's Eve we learn something about time we can never learn in any other way. Then we look at our watch or clock quite differently from any other day of our lives. Usually we glance at our watch in order to see what time we should be at a certain place, or whether we are going to make an appointment on time. But on New Year's Eve we suddenly, look at it, not in order to move ourselves, but because we become aware of the fact that time itself is moving.

We become quite aware, as the midnight hour approaches, that time is moving continually on and that we can never go back, that what we have been will unalterably remain, forever. It can never be changed. We can never retrace our steps nor refill the contents of the past with something either better or worse. It remains exactly what it was. Perhaps last year we made a wrong decision or got married (the two are not necessarily linked) or entered into some new project or achieved some goal. Whatever it was, that has now become an unchangeable part of our destiny, our lot. It is irrevocably the same, it can never be changed. God's grace has moved him to bear certain effects of our misdeeds himself, but they remain for him to bear and are never dissipated into nothingness.

Ray Stedman
5:41 PMsent a prayer

Helen, her grace exceeded that of queens'
Her love equaled that of saints
Roses envied the fragrances her presence breathed
Her head held high in Christ
She walked taller than trees
She stooped not for fools
Yet bent her back for the burden of the broken
Helen kept easy company with the great
Yet walked with the lonely
Her serving spirit bathed friends and family with milky kindness
Her furnished table feeds thousands
Preparing her food garnished with love
Her ears listened without a price
Never tiring and judging
Everyone knew she was their friend
Helen flowed like a stream giggling
In harmony with those who loved
Sobbing tears with those who cried
Helen trusted, Helen the truest of friends
Armed with glittering love her sword
She brought down the proud with mounting kindness
But in her war she triumphed again and again and yet again
Until the one she loved above all, Jesus, whispered her name
And called her to Himself
She graced His house from the start to the end
His house was her home and hers was His
Her love for His Word, His people
His house exceeded only by her love for Him
God's only Son who had saved her
Her foot landed softly and the earth kissed her feet
Helen remains a picture for all daughters to view
Her life - the very reachable, the very touchable
Lift up your eyes, daughters of the church
Yes you men take heed also
Of a life born of Heaven, lived as she lived
And you'll receive a crown as she has beyond here
But I know selfless Helen, already she has given it to another
She gave her whole life to others
She lived the keys of God's Kingdom
Laying down her life for her family and friends
Maybe you're the one to live a life like hers
So a lost world can see Jesus
So a lost world can see how to live
Helen, though dead, yet speaks
A life in Heaven, delighting in dance, singing with her King
Hopeful that you and I hear her message, her life
And even to live a shadow will suffice
This would be your best way to honour a life pleasing to God
Helen
5:20 PMsent a prayer